When my firstborn became 1 1/2, he one day informed us that
his name was 'Eenie'. I know , right? I was 28 and had raised a bunch of
siblings, but nothing really ever prepares you , especially for an assertive
alpha kid in a tiny little kid body. "Great!" we said, going about our lives, but day after day he reminded us. With vehemence , as in. ' Are you all even paying attention ?!".
"EENIE!" He'd assert, pounding on his small chest for emphasis . "Whoa , ok , sorry " I'd tell him. "I'll try to remember.". But just in case, there he was, holding the line.
When we went down to the newspaper to pay for the Grandparent's Day Ad for Kevin's amazing mom and dad, my kid would be watching me with an eagle eye , since I'd given him the heads up of the ad for his Nanny and Papa, after all, and he insisted on looking at the proof , pulling it from the clerk 's hands, asking me "EENIE?" Because he somehow got that this was a name situation, with his proper name , and must not be messed up.
Who knew that years later, he'd catch sight of and immediately, before one date, fall for his wife, who had, in her youth, imperially ordered her parents to call her "Norton", chastising them for their intermittent but unforgivable forgetfulness .
Once firmly together , they got a Hedgehog , who they promptly christened ... Nortini. Now how do you like that?!
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